A King's Sacrifice
by Sapphire Warrioress
Summary: He surrendered his will, his strength, and his life into the hands of death, all for the sake of his people.


He had known this moment would come.

It had been decreed by his father as soon as the first notes of the song of creation passed his lips. Woven into the very essence of the music was the knowledge of pain beyond description, and the darkness, glory and mystery of death.

Even if Jadis had never come to dwell in Narnia, he would still have been asked to make the greatest of sacrifices for his kingdom.

That knowledge weighed heavy on his spirit as he called forth all of the Narnian creatures, gave them the gift of speech and watched as they rejoiced in the miracle of a new world born.

Only Digory, a mortal child tasked with the protection of his kingdom had known and shared in his sorrow, for he too was struggling to reconcile himself to the inevitability of death.

He had done what he could to safeguard his people, given them the sacred tree of protection which would keep Jadis from entering.

But even as he proudly watched the little son of Adam plant the precious apple core, he knew that one day death would come as was its right.

He had watched as his Narnians grew into a glorious and strong nation. As Frank and Helen took up the mantles of king and queen trusting in him to guide their steps and choices.

Moments of joy and sorrow, war and peace, passion and glory, all he had watched and shared with his people.

He had known the instant Jadis returned in triumph, as her dark magic cloaked his empire in endless winter.

For 1 mortal century the feeling of approaching death had strengthened, until he was drawn back to Narnia by the appearance of four children and the knowledge of a brother's betrayal.

How he had gloried in bringing the gift of spring to his people once more, in seeing the fires of hope and faith rekindled within souls who had known despair for too long.

Not even the coming of Jadis to demand that he surrender Edmund had quenched his joy.

And yet beneath it lay darker emotions, awakened as soon as he had followed the plan of his father and offered himself in Edmund's place.

Though he knew the victory was sure, he could not suppress the rage that burned within his spirit.

His fury was not directed at Edmund, but at the destruction of his beloved creation, the countless deaths which could be laid at the door of the false queen.

Though all this had been ordained by his father and the deep magic before the dawn of time in the great silence, still he wanted to roar out against the senseless desecration of the world he had formed with such care.

He had spoken little as the night drew near, and the knowledge of what awaited him caused his steps to falter as he walked the path of his destiny.

Never before had he been so thankful for the comfort of his children, when Susan and Lucy had walked with him to his death.

They had not known why he must make the sacrifice, and yet they still gave of their love and friendship when he had thought he must walk to the table alone.

He had sensed their presence near, the one comfort left for what lay ahead. It had been hard to submit, to command every instinct which urged him to spring upon his enemies to be silent and wait until the battle for his kingdom.

The cords had driven him mad with the desire for freedom, for they held not just his body but his soul captive to the will of Jadis.

How often had a Narnian said that their highest king is not a tame lion? He had heard that phrase countless times, but not until that moment had he truly appreciated its deeper meaning.

Bound to wait, unable to do anything to defend himself from his enemies, was a trial which tested his patience and instinct to fight almost to the breaking point.

But the hardest test of all was the withdrawal of his father's presence, and the weight of his people's wrongs.

He could not even give voice to his torment, for his enemies had muzzled him so that he might not call for aid.

In his last moments, he drew strength from his little daughter, knowing that she and her sister would not forsake him in his hour of need.

He felt their presence during that darkest of nights, when his spirit warred against the evil that sought to consume his world.

Gratitude had filled him as he felt the smallest members of his people gnaw through the cords which had bound him to the stone table.

The moment the ancient stone cracked under the weight of his sacrificial love, he felt death release its hold.

He had reveled in his freedom as he bore the children to Jadis's fortress, and the task of restoring his people turned to stone by her power.

As they approached the valley where the battle raged, he ordered his followers to wait until he gave the signal to attack.

He had been right to give command to the eldest Pevensie, even now as he watched Peter locked in combat with Jadis he could see the formidable warrior and king that this boy would become.

Yet still he waited, until the moment was right to intervene.

And when Peter had fallen, and the false queen was about to cut him down, Aslan true lord of Narnia sprang upon his enemy in a single move of grace and power.

Triumph was in his gaze as he launched himself at Jadis, the fires of justice and power burned bright within as he moved in for the kill.

At the coronation feast he watched the four he had chosen to rule, knowing that they would be remembered long after being called back to their own world as four of the greatest sovereigns in Narnian history.

So he took his leave of his people, content that his kingdom would be kept safe by the four.

Other horrors would arise seeking to destroy Narnia, for such is the nature of evil, but by the power of his sacrifice he had vanquished the greatest threat to his Narnians.

Nor had this been the first time he had stared into the face of death. For centuries ago on a lonely hill forsaken by his closest friends he had given himself up to agony and death for the sake of the race of men.

And it was a sacrifice he would make a thousand times over, for the sake of his people, not just in Narnia, but in all worlds.

_Note from the authoress: I wrote this short piece while listening to a really amazing singer Michael Ball's performance of the song Gethsemane._

_That song and an absolutely gorgeous orchestral piece are the only things about Jesus Christ Superstar worth hearing. Even then some of the ideas in Gethsemane are really off, but it offers a very human glimpse of the thoughts and turmoil within Jesus._

_I Hope you enjoyed this story and would as always love to read your comments._


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